


It's Over Isn't It?

by FireFoxCanFireFuckOff



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Harley is Pearl, M/M, Morgan is Steven, Peter is Greg, Song fic, Steven Universe References, all lyrics are in bold, can be read as romantic or platonic, if you couldn't tell, inspired by its over isnt it, this song is so good that i probably fucked it up by writing it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 20:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20364325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFoxCanFireFuckOff/pseuds/FireFoxCanFireFuckOff
Summary: Air whooshed passed his head. His heart froze, time stopped as he sank through 10 seconds of madness. The ledge hit his back, he let out a large breath. Though Harley, the extra bitch he was, knew what he was doing when he was doing it; it didn’t make falling on a three-inch ledge any easier. He let his head fall back as well. The sleeve of his tux drew up ward, drawing his attention to the skies once more. He watched, as the clouds formed three figures. Two boys, and Tony. Yet the center cloud let go of cloud-Harley’s hand and turned to what represented Peter. His real hand recoiled, just the slightest, at the sight.





	It's Over Isn't It?

A shuddering breath came from the doorway. In this magnificent hotel, far far away from home, a boy with dirty blond hair stood. The moon streamed in from the glass doors and laid across the tuxedo, still pressed and clean. Harley peered into the bedroom until his eyes landed upon two sleeping forms. A ten-year-old girl. Who was knocked out cold, all energy drained from running around New York all day. A girl he cherished like a sister: the daughter of a dead father figure. The only one he had ever had. Her hair cascaded down the side of the bed and across the stomach of the boy she laid on.

Harley sighed. This boy, this was the source of his doubts and worries. _This_ boy; one would look at him and say, “why what a nice young un-problematic man”. But not to Harley. Never to Harley. Peter snored lightly. Ms. Stark had sent him and Peter into New York to show Morgan around. To see sights, to laugh and have fun, and come back and crash in to big of a hotel. One so large that he felt empty. Three out of four of those tasks had been accomplished. Harley had tried his best to see great sights, to laugh, to have fun. It had been fun. The only downside was that he couldn’t yell at Peter’s idiotic tendencies in front of Morgan. When they arrived back… Well, thoughts clouded his mind, begging him to stay awake. How could he say no?

Dress shoes glided across the linoleum tile, gracefully and silently. He stopped at a vase of roses just by the bedside. The thorns pricked at his skin as he picked one up. A small smile grew on his face as he looked at the girl on the bed. So young, so much potential. She reminded him of himself.

He gazed at the rose as a petal drifted towards the ground.** “I was fine. With the kids. Who would come into his life now and again.”** a laugh escaped Harley’s lips,** “I was fine ‘cause I knew that they didn’t really matter until you...”** As he slid through the door the balcony air hit him, almost, but not completely knocking his top hat to the ground. And as he did so. Morgan stirred. She watched, as Harley leaned on the balcony bar.

Nine years he had known Tony. Nine years of science fairs and visits. Nine years of checking in, becoming like a father to him, making him feel safe. And then at age 15 in walked Peter Parker. Suddenly with no explanation, there was someone else. Harley was a fool to think he had been the only protégé. Still hurt like a son of a bitch. So, he drew up his walls, he and Peter bickered, fought. Harley would only admit to himself that he liked Peter.

** “I was fine, when you came, and we fought like it was all some silly game.”** He looked over the big city. Beautiful lights flashed everywhere, cars swam in traffic, and though it was all too loud, the city seemed deafeningly silent.** “Over him, who’d he chose. Ha, after all those years I never thought I would lose.”** He let his top hat roll across his arm and into his hand. His eyelids fluttered shut** “It’s over isn’t it, isn’t it, isn’t it over? It’s over, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it over? You won, and he chose you, and he loved you and he’s gone. It’s over isn’t it, why can’t I move on?”** Harley glanced up at the sky and watched the stars swirl around in oblivion, universes he saved. Yet he couldn’t save himself? Harley didn’t think he would ever be able to understand.

He remembered when they read Tony’s will. The funeral was scheduled on a perfect day, weather wise that is. Inside there was a storm brewing. The lawyer said Harley’s name, and he got Tony’s tools, and his music collection, and some money. But they called Peter’s too. And he got gadgets and gizmos, and suits and designs, he got money and cars. He got EDITH, who Harley helped design. For the millionth time in his life, Harley was forgotten. Left in the dust. Peter won. And Harley, Harley couldn’t let that go.

Morgan, hearing all this, glanced down at Peter’s sleeping form and back at Harley with a new sad gleam in her eye. Harley jumped onto the thin ledge with grace and poise, he walked across, using the rose, still in his hand, as a foil. Gabbing into the air. Gabbing at his internal enemies he wished were in front of him. **“War and glory! Reinvention! Fighting! Freedom! His attention.”** -he began to pace in the opposite direction, balls of his feet pushing him up and off with each step-** “Out in daylight my potential. Bold. Precise. EXPERIMENTAL!”**

Air whooshed passed his head. His heart froze, time stopped as he sank through 10 seconds of madness. The ledge hit his back, he let out a large breath. Though Harley, the extra bitch he was, knew what he was doing when he was doing it; it didn’t make falling on a three-inch ledge any easier. He let his head fall back as well. The sleeve of his tux drew up ward, drawing his attention to the skies once more. He watched, as the clouds formed three figures. Two boys, and Tony. Yet the center cloud let go of cloud-Harley’s hand and turned to what represented Peter. His real hand recoiled, just the slightest, at the sight.

** “Who am I now in this world without him? Petty and dull with the nerve to doubt him. What does it matter? It’s already done. Now I’ve got to be there for his kid.”** Without the man who made him, molded him, guided him, who was he? Thoughts swarmed his skull at every aching moment. Pushing him, pulling him. Making him choose between what is right and what is true. And he wished, oh so hard he wished that they would go away. That Tony would come back. The only thing that pulled him back from the sea of delusion he was drowning in was…

Morgan. Morgan, who lost her father at age five, the same age he lost his. Morgan who didn’t deserve any of this. She didn’t deserve to have to live up to a legacy no one could fulfill. She didn’t deserve to have never known the man who everyone knew. Who everyone loved. She deserved privacy, not pity. She deserved to grow up loved for being herself. Not what was left of her father; and Harley, no matter what, was going to give her what he NEVER had. He was going to be there for her. Because she may have deserved the world. But God knows, the world didn’t deserve her.

His feet once again felt solid ground as he slid back onto the balcony. Eyes closed, deep in thought.** “It’s over isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it over?”** -he turned to face the city once more- **“It’s over isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it over?”** -his eyes clicked open, darting around with anger and frustration and… tears, welling up inside them. With every line, every word, his voice grew louder. He didn’t give a shit if Peter woke up anymore, maybe if he heard it he could finally know how Harley felt. How he wanted to let himself like him. Let himself be like him, but he couldn’t. He leaned over the edge now, gripping it with iron fists, white knuckling it. – **“You won! And he chose you!! And he loved you and he’s GONE!!!” **

With one word, everything he had been dying to say since Tony died slipped out. His voice cracked and broke, he belted out every single fucking syllable. He threw his hand to the sky and out of his grasp finally fell the rose. The wind gently carried it away. And if Harley had not have had his eyes clamped shut in frustration, he would have seen it: the rose falling to the ground. How impartial, how calm it looked, uninfected by its owner. As he finally took a breath. His eyes widened. In shock or sadness, or a realization of something he hadn’t previously known, he was unsure. However, he was sure, that in that moment, his walls came tumbling down. As did a tear, trailing his blotchy red cheeks. For once, he stood stock still. Gazing out at the serenity of the city streets. His eyes felt tired. HE felt tired. But it was a kind of tired that a crick making car nap wouldn’t solve. All the tension he had held onto over the years, it melted away. Melted is a strong word, changed maybe? Into what it had really been this whole time. Grief. Softly, the boy, devoid of all anger, spoke. **“It’s over isn’t it, why can’t I move on? It's over isn’t it?”**

** “Why can’t I move on?”**

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! thanks for reading. Basically i was inspired to write this because of the parallels in the show. If you don't know Pearl loved Steven's mom Rose, and she had been by her side for thousands of years. However Rose fell in love with Greg. And she had to die in order to create Steven. Leaving Pearl to sort of raise Steven. Obviously there is no love triangle in this with Tony, but i loved the idea of Harley singing this because he felt abandoned by Tony, when Tony met Peter. Its a wonderful song, it makes me cry every time i listen to it and i really recommend it and the show. I hope you liked the story!


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